


You Let Me Desecrate You

by HalosandSeeds



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Nine Inch Nails (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Consensual Non-Consent, Dubious Consent, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Gangbang, Gunplay, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Physical Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, nothings real guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 16:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalosandSeeds/pseuds/HalosandSeeds
Summary: “I’d do as he says, Reznor,” Brian cut in smoothly, keeping the gun trained between Trent’s eyes. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.”Trent gulped.How cute.OrWhere Trent gets gangbanged by the spooky kids and his bandmates.





	You Let Me Desecrate You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trent_In_A_Tree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trent_In_A_Tree/gifts).



> The title is lyrics taken from “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails from The Downward Spiral.  
> Y’all remember “Groupie”? It was Manson’s movie that ended up never being released because of the graphic content. This is kind of like it. WARNING: Also this fic contains violent and sexually graphic content that eventually becomes Noncon (consensual non con). Read at your own risk. Or don’t read if it bothers you. It’s all fake but you know, gotta warn ya.
> 
> This fic I gift to my boi Jeordie for just being awesome and I love you and I swear we were so in sync with this. Enjoy my dude.

“When’s he going to be here?”

 

Brian checked the clock and rolled up his sleeves before cocking the gun, checking the safety, and approaching the door as calmly as a cat. “Any moment now,” he murmured, shoving the weapon into his pants. Then he checked the door, peeked through the window, and smirked to himself, offering a wink to the others. A few titters and amused chuckles resonated around the room. The sound of footsteps could be heard and a soft knock met each of their ears to which Brian quickly rested a finger against his lips to shut them up and casually opened the door.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Trent gushed, striding through the door. “I’m exhausted. It hasn’t really been a good day if you know what I mean.”

 

“I can’t imagine,” Brian soothed softly in his ear while helping him remove his jacket. Meanwhile, Trent took the time to survey the room, eyeing each of the Manson band mates warily.

 

“Quite the party, huh?” he remarked carefully. “I thought it was just going to be the two of us tonight.”

 

Brian shrugged and waved his hand dismissively, trying to hold back a wicked grin. “There’s sort of been a change in plans. Here, have a seat.” Both Brad and Stephen giggled once Brian shoved him down roughly into a lone chair, maybe a little too hard. Trent immediately whirled his head around, expression confused and a bit taken aback. Brian hardly noticed, though, for he was too busy adjusting his gun behind him, and he promptly sat down just a foot away from him at the table, leaning forward, eyes glittering, a sort of hunger in them that Trent couldn’t mistake. Nodding once over his shoulder, Brian watched with silent glee as Brad came around and placed his hands on Trent’s shoulders, holding him down while Stephen advanced on him with the rope.

 

“What the fuck?” Trent cried, glancing at all of them wildly and making a huge effort to struggle against the hands and arms that held him firmly. His gaze landed on Brian finally. “What are you doing? Get me the fuck out of this!”

 

Brian rather enjoyed how frantic and uncomfortable Trent became suddenly, but even he had to admit that the sight of Trent squirming and continuing to squirm in his seat was starting to irritate him greatly. And the others as well. Brad scoffed as he kept him in place and rolled his eyes.

 

“Don’t be such a fucking baby,” he retorted scathingly.

 

“Keep still, you little fucker!” Stephen was already past annoyed and decided to take actions into his own hands, swinging his fist to the side of Trent’s pale cheek. Hard. It only proceeded to make things much worse. The force of the blow knocked Trent’s head to the side but merely left him angrier than ever, like a mad cat.

 

“You fucking cunt!” he screamed. “I will fucking bury you!”

 

_Click._

 

Everyone heard it.

 

Brad heard it and slammed Trent’s shoulders into the back of his chair. Stephen heard it and instantly shot his gaze to Brian, whose gun was out, cocked, ready and loaded, aimed right in front of Trent, right in his face. If he thought the man couldn’t get any paler, he was dead wrong. Trent’s face went as white as a sheet, his large eyes growing larger, widening in fear at the sight of the deadly weapon. He attempted to back up as far as he could go in his seat but only managed to hit the back of his head, ushering a cruel chuckle from Stephen and a grin from Brad.

 

“I’d do as he says, Reznor,” Brian cut in smoothly, keeping the gun trained between Trent’s eyes. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

 

Trent gulped.

 

How cute.

 

In one fluid motion, Brian got up from his seat and walked around Trent, keeping the gun aimed at the side of his head. He stood over him, making sure he didn’t upset Stephen’s progress of tying him up, and finally his wrists were tied down securely to the armrests. Trent began to struggle once more as soon as Stephen stood up and backed away, observing his creation with a sneer, but just as he thrashed in his seat, the harsh smack from the butt end of the gun quieted and calmed him down instantly, ushering only a small, soft whimper out of him.

 

“Are we late?”

 

Trent’s head snapped to the side as soon as he heard Danny’s voice. Sure enough, Danny, Chris, and Robin piled into the room and only had a minute to take in the scene in front of them.

 

“Seems like we’re right on time actually,” Robin sniffed, removing his jacket and going to sit on the couch with the rest of them, nonchalantly, as if nothing out of the ordinary could possibly be happening at that moment.

 

Trent lowered his head once he realized that his own band mates weren’t going to help him out of this predicament. The cool tip of the gun kept him from doing so however, and he was forced to look up into Brian’s face. His expression held disdain while Brian merely grinned back down at him, calm and calculating as a serial killer. Brian caught that look of defiance in him, something that normally would make him chuckle, but he had to remain hard, threatening, anything to break Trent’s spirit, let him know that he wasn’t so tough now.

 

“Look at you,” he mused, sauntering around the chair, enjoying the way Trent’s head whirled around to keep his eyes trained on the deadly weapon in his hand, something that would most certainly kill him if he just so happened to unload it all. “Mr. Bigshot. Do you feel so big and powerful now?”

 

He certainly didn’t expect Trent to be so bold as to spit right in his face, but the scathing “Fuck you, Brian” told him otherwise. Brian sighed and lowered his gun, raising his free hand to wipe the saliva off his cheek. Carelessly, he rubbed it into Trent’s shirt and moved back around to the front so he could kneel down in front of him, remaining at eye level.

 

“You really shouldn’t have done that, baby doll,” Brian murmured, breath warm on Trent’s face, eyes steely, but voice staying as calm as ever. “I’ll just have to sic my dog on you first.” Just as he uttered it, Stephen heard it from back on the couch and leaned forward in interest, licking his lips and eyeing Trent ravenously. Trent had no doubt now that Brian was indeed talking about him, and his heart pounded so loudly that he heard it in his eardrums. “You think you own me?” Brian continued, patting the side of the gun into Trent’s cheek so he could return his attention back to him. “You think you own all of us? What? Is that it? You think you’re some sort of hot shot with your fancy home and your own record label? Something that somehow makes you so much more better than all of us?”

 

When Trent didn’t answer, Brian struck him, and in all honesty, Trent would have taken a couple more smacks from Stephen. Brian had rings, and each one of them dug into Trent’s flesh, making him scream. Those were bound to leave marks lasting for days. “N-no,” he finally whispered. “I don’t think that. Please...”

 

“Already begging? Really?” Brian clicked his tongue and shook his head. “We barely even touched you.” A statement like that made all the blood rush to Trent’s ears and maybe a little bit elsewhere.

 

“Do you believe in God, Trent?”

 

That abrupt question definitely caught him off guard. “W-what?”

 

“What do you mean ‘what’?” This time Brian decided to really show just how aggravated he was. “Fucking answer the question! Do you believe in God? Do you believe that God is real?”

 

The yelling was what silenced Trent, made him too frightened to speak. That’s when Brian, after chuckling quietly, decided to try a different tactic. “Hmm… not speaking are we? We can try something else...” Pressing the gun harder into the side of his head, Brian leaned in close that their lips just barely touched, that their breaths mingled, and Trent’s own breath hitched when he heard his next order.

 

“Sing it.”

 

Trent only stared, bewildered.

 

“Go on. Sing it. Sing ‘Jesus loves me, this I know’.” A couple of snickers resonated from behind the both of them, and quite frankly, Trent still held that bit of defiance in him that made him shake his head no. Brian’s grin became a sneer at his resistance, and before Trent knew it, the tip of his gun was pushed forcefully into his mouth, past his lips, bumping his teeth, nearly making him choke, swallowing hard.

 

Trent’s eyes widened, and he trembled even harder now, realizing that he could die any moment. Brian’s hand could slip. Or he’d simply squeeze the trigger. Either way, his life was in his hands. And he wanted to humiliate him. Torture him to no end. Trent’s lips quivered around the gun, and only a broken sob escaped, reaching Brian’s ears, making him smile. It looked so sinister. Trent shivered. Thinking he had threatened him enough, Brian removed the gun only slightly away from his mouth and waited. The smaller man, bound to a chair with a gun trained at his head, finally wet his pretty, pink lips and parted them to speak.

 

“J-Jesus love’s me… th-this I kn-know...”

 

Brian’s smile widened wickedly when he heard it, his voice, husky, yet so soft, hushed down nearly to a whisper. Trent’s voice had broken, and Brian heard it shake as he managed to sing all the right notes to that typical Sunday school song. “That’s it,” he breathed, lowering the gun just a bit, free hand reaching out to Trent’s jeans.

 

“For the… B-Bible tells m-m-me so- ah!”

 

Trent stopped abruptly as soon as he felt Brian’s long fingers pulling down his zipper to his pants, and he flinched once the gun pressed against the side of his head again. “Continue,” Brian growled cruelly, eyes darkening menacingly.

 

The tears flowed freely this time, and Trent tried swallowing a hiccup but his attempts were futile. He began to sing again, unsteady, every part of his voice shaking, his entire body shaking as he sang for Brian and the rest of the men watching him in hungry anticipation. His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to gather his self-control. Finding none, he sobbed some more, the lyrics like babbling, a stuttering mess. Brian chuckled and rubbed Trent’s concave stomach just a little before trailing his fingers down, resting over his bulge before casually moving inside.

 

Trent gasped and glanced down hastily, watching Brian with wide eyes, wet with his tears as he pulled out his already half hard cock.

 

“Look at him!” Stephen piped up with a sneer. “The little bitch actually likes the abuse.” Cruel laughter erupted, and Trent wanted to crawl away in shame. He was crying so hard even as he continued to sing. Every word became a stutter as he managed to gather himself, but he went on, lips pressed together tightly before moaning out the next phrase.

 

“Jesus l-loves me this I-I… Oh fuck...”

 

Brian had started slowly pumping his shaft up and down, fingers working, rubbing him down, thumb stroking his wet slit before circling around his sensitive head. Trent started becoming a mess for much different reasons this time.

 

“J-Jesus l-loves- oh… oh Jesus… f-fuck...” A high moan escaped his open mouth, jaw slack, lips wet, a film of sweat forming on his face. He could practically feel all eyes on him now, like hot coals burning into his clothes. His chest heaved violently, and his breath stuttered, momentarily forgetting what was demanded of him. Occasionally, Trent’s hips bucked up into Brian’s hand, but he pressed down hard on his stomach in attempts to hold him firmly down and sped up the ministrations with his hand. He even grinned widely when Trent let out a short squeak at being made to come so early. The little fucker simply could not stop squirming, Brian observed.

 

Brian gasped softly when Trent finally did come, in short spurts and sharp undulations of his hips, writhing and twitching beneath his captor’s hand. He found it oddly arousing to see this man, who tended to act so high and mighty in the recording studio, reduce himself to a shivering, moaning, sobbing mess. Trent fell back in the chair, head back and chest heaving wildly as he gradually began to come down from his high. Brian eventually removed his hand from his softening cock only to advance on Trent, clean hand in his hair and his cum-soaked one shoved against his face.

 

“Lick it clean, bitch.”

 

Trent seemed a little more docile this time as he opened his mouth, obediently waiting for Brian’s fingers to enter. He just didn’t know how many until he found himself choking on three at once. “Suck them good.” Trent obeyed the order, sniffling softly and reddening at the rude, wet sounds his lips and tongue made around Brian’s fingers. He cringed at the bitter taste of himself but swallowed compliantly, letting out a small gasp once Brian yanked his fingers out of his mouth.

 

“Get him on the floor,” Stephen blurted greedily. “I wanna see the little slut squirm.”

 

“Shouldn’t we let him get used to it?” Chris cut in. Danny snorted once, and Trent’s expression of hope fell as Brian worked on the ropes that bound his wrists to the chair.

 

Brian scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m waiting for every goddamn refractory period? That’s cute.”

 

Trent found himself on his back on the carpeted floor with Brian straddling his waist, gun in hand. Struggling some more proved not to be the wisest nor best course of action, and Brian pinned him down, arms above his head, his groin slowly rubbing against his crotch while he leered down at him, Trent, sweaty, red-faced, and trying to get free.

 

“Who wants to go first?”

 

Brian fumbled with the waistband of Trent’s jeans and underwear while Stephen approached from above, keeping his arms over his head. He shivered as the cool air hit his sensitive cock again and whimpered as Robin, his own guitarist sauntered over, grabbing himself through his pants and moaning softly. “Me,” he said, wetting his lips a little. “Turn him over.” Trent’s heart gave a heavy thud as he was forcefully pushed over on his stomach, little white ass in the air, exposed. Brian came over with the rope again and cruelly bound his hands behind his back, ushering a chuckle from Stephen, who also began lazily rubbing at his own cock.

 

A scream erupted from Trent’s lips as a slicked up finger made its way into his hole. Brian looked on approvingly, and Trent heard Robin hum, satisfied. “He’s so soft and warm inside.” He cursed softly while shoving another finger in as well. “So tight.”

 

“The tighter he is, the more painful it is for him,” Brian commented nonchalantly. “And the little whore fucking loves it.” He smirked and bent down just above Trent’s level to eye him drooling and moaning on the carpet. “He’s such a fucking masochist for me. I never let him get used to it.” To Trent, he crooned condescendingly, “Do I?”

 

“Fuck… you.” Trent’s eyes, like daggers, glared up into Brian’s face while Robin fingerfucked him from behind.

 

“I’m not really in the mood to hear this bitch talk,” Robin remarked, removing his fingers and sliding the condom Brian handed him on his erect cock.

 

“Couldn’t agree more.” Brian flashed an evil sneer Trent’s way and nudged his chest with the toe of his boot. “Up.” Robin grabbed at the back of his shirt to haul him up to his knees while Brian kept the gun trained on the side of his head.

 

“I’ll shut him up,” Stephen offered, advancing on Trent. Grinning, Brian dropped down and grabbed his chin, forcing his mouth open and ignoring his incoherent protests. With a grunt and a long, low groan, Stephen pushed past his lips easily and slowly yet roughly began fucking in and out of his mouth. Trent practically choked, loud enough for all to hear, which drew out mocking laughter from the rest in the room. A small tear formed at the corner of his eye while he gagged and slid down his cheek. Brian caught it and brushed it away carelessly as he praised him softly, voice feather-light in his ear.

 

“Look at you taking dick like a champ.”

 

As soon as he said it, Trent let out a muffled scream upon feeling Robin’s cock start to push into him. He was huge, larger than Brian actually, and the stretch hurt; he didn’t think he could handle if he went in any further, but he did, sliding all the way in, up to the hilt, filling Trent up with every inch. A strained, strangled moan managed to break from his lips while he endured being fucked from both ends. How humiliating. He must’ve looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t spend this moment worrying about that. Brian’s deep, droning voice, like gravel on the road, broke through his thoughts and made him shiver.

 

“Each of us gets a turn fucking you tonight, baby doll,” Brian informed him, tucking a loose tendril behind his ear. “So keep it up. You’ve got an audience.”

 

Trent noticed the pairs of eyes staring at him shamelessly. Danny already had his cock out, Chris absentmindedly stroked himself through his jeans while he stared, and Brad leaned back into the couch with a casual smirk on his face. Even more humiliating. Trent’s bound hands formed into fists and clenched each time Robin drove into him. He had lubed himself up, but the burning friction in his ass told Trent it may have been for Robin’s comfort and not his. A sob-like moan fell from his lips once Stephen pulled out of his mouth. He heard the slap of Robin railing into him, felt himself nearly lose balance and fall over if it weren’t for Robin’s hands gripping his hips and holding him firmly in place.

 

“He’s such a good little fuck, Manson,” Robin grunted with each thrust. “You may have to let me borrow him sometime.” Brian hummed in approval and shoved Trent’s face back down into the carpet.

 

“Keep still,” he growled. Trent whimpered beneath his steely gaze and then let out a long, loud open-mouthed moan.

 

“God, someone shut this whiny whore up,” Stephen rolled his eyes.

 

“Not now,” Robin grunted breathlessly, red-faced. “I’m coming.” With a loud string of choice words, Robin thrust into him one last time before pulling out, taking off the condom, and flinging it at his “boss” carelessly. Once Stephen began to loom, Trent lifted his chin and eyed Brian almost pleadingly.

 

Throwing another condom at him, Brian offered Stephen a look and growled, “Put it on, and you can do whatever you want.” Some silent relief filled Trent briefly until he felt Stephen’s cock line up with his already abused hole and then slide in just as easily. Stephen hummed, grabbing Trent’s cheeks with both hands, and squeezed. “Look at this tight, cute little ass!” he exclaimed.

 

“Mm… he seems to like that.” Brian grew very busy observing Trent’s throbbing, fully erect cock, how it seemed to twitch with every thrust into him Stephen gave. He reached out with one finger and scooped up some of the pre-cum that slid out of his head freely. A long, awe-filled “oh” spilled from Brian’s lips then, and his eyes widened. “You must really like all this praise, don’t you! You like us telling you how great this tight ass of yours is?”

 

A dark shade of red fell over Trent’s face, and ashamed, he nodded, averting his eyes away. “Take your little reward.” Trent glanced back at Brian only to choke on his two fingers, slightly soaked with his pre-cum. “You like the taste of yourself?” Brian inquired tauntingly. Trent could only gulp and gag in response, eyes brimming at his gag reflex kicking in. “Yeah, I bet you do, you little slut.” To Stephen, Brian ordered, “Back off. He’s mine now.”

 

Stephen wrinkled his nose, muttered something under his breath, and pulled out, bringing his hand down on Trent’s ass a few times before backing up. Turning back to Trent, Brian began to speak, a little more sweetly this time, crooning gently in his ear. “Wanna show everyone what you do when I fuck you?” Before he knew it, Trent’s pants and underwear were completely off from around his ankles, and Brian had turned him over, making it so that his shirt rode up just a little bit. Brian surveyed everything below and smirked triumphantly, playfully squeezing Trent’s leaking cock. “You love the abuse,” he accused with a sneer and slowly unzipped his pants. Trent’s eyes widened once his thick cock sprang out from his underwear, and he whimpered softly.

 

“Sh, sh, sh, sh, sh...” Brian soothed. “This won’t hurt a bit. You’re already used to it!”

 

Brian was already deep inside before Trent could blink, and he cried out at the sudden friction inside of him. And that’s when Brian started with a slow, gentle grind against him, rolling his hips, getting on his knees, hoisting Trent’s lower half entirely, like he was just a toy made only for Brian’s use. His cock twitched just a little at the thought, and Brian caught it, beginning to steadily thrust in and out of him. “Ah, you like that, don’t you?” He clicked his tongue once Trent reddened deeply and wildly shook his head, a small sound erupting from his lips when he pushed in a little deeper.

 

“No, I know you like being used like a fucking toy, just like a real life human fuckdoll. Your leaking cock gives you away.”

 

Feeling utterly humiliated, Trent turned his head to the side, trying and failing to muffle the sounds he made into his shoulder.

 

“Aw, he’s shy,” Brad piped up.

 

“Don’t be so coy, Reznor,” Stephen cut in, his voice like a razor’s edge. “We all know how you like it rough.”

 

“And we’re all tired of getting fucked in the ass ourselves,” Chris spoke up. Danny nodded next to him.

 

Robin’s voice was mocking yet soft as ever. “About time you got a taste of your own medicine, huh, princess?”

 

Trent swallowed hard and then squeezed his eyes shut tight when Brian slammed into him hard. “You just need someone to fuck the living shit out of you,” his dominant sneered. “Good thing you have me, hmm?” One buck from Trent’s hips had Brian changing the subject just a little bit. “Oh, someone needs to come.”

 

Trent nodded.

 

“Well, you won’t mind if everyone else gets a turn, right?”

 

As if on cue, Chris, Danny, Brad, and Stephen surrounded him, all watching him getting fucked in the ass by Marilyn Manson himself, all eager with their cocks out and ready to come all over him. He felt it hit his face first, his cheek, sliding down his forehead, dribbling down his lips, and then his exposed stomach, splattered with spunk, everyone’s- god, he felt so fucking filthy. And Brian wasn’t even done with him yet.

 

With a curse, Brian piled into him once and then slowed as he released, coating Trent’s insides with his seed, hot and quick. Trent felt it and moaned with him, arching his back into it, coming himself and letting everyone know in the room involuntarily just how much he loved this. Someone gasped at the sight of Trent’s cum shooting out all over his chest and stomach. His chest heaved a few times violently before slowing. A small whimper fell from his lips once Brian pulled out. A few chuckles could be heard, a few flies being zipped up, and then the bandmates began to file out one by one just like that with a few remarks on how they’d love to do that again.

 

The room was completely silent afterwards until Trent wheezed and chuckled tiredly. Brian laughed softly and gently turned Trent over on his side so that he could untie his bonds.

 

“What? No ‘thank you’ for using and abusing my ass to their hearts’ content?” Trent sounded more playful than he felt.

 

“Some people are so unappreciative,” Brian shook his head after he released him. Then he went to work to check that Trent was okay. “Everything’s still intact right? You’re not bleeding?”

 

Trent’s heart warmed every time Brian made it his business to make sure that he was all right. But he wasn’t about to admit it in front of him. Instead, he nodded with a small smile. “Thank you for reminding Pogo to wear a fucking condom. Jesus...”

 

“Hey, this ass is mine and only mine.” Brian winked and bit down on his lower lip, upsetting the lip ring in a rather cute way. Then he sobered quickly. “The gun wasn’t loaded. I promise. And you could’ve used your safe word anytime. I’m surprised you didn’t.”

 

Trent simply shrugged, and Brian was a bit caught off guard when he blushed. “I know… I just really like this sometimes. With you though. I’ve decided I don’t want the guys involved anymore. Just you.”

 

Brian breathed a sigh of relief. “Glad to hear,” he said softly, gently rubbing and caressing Trent’s rope-burned wrists. “Now let’s go cuddle. You need it.”

 

Trent sighed. “Please don’t say the ‘c’ word.”


End file.
